 The Ghost of Barnabus Blackjack
by Amy M. Schaefer Blackjack Barney had not lived an exemplary life. He was a pirate, so no one expected good things from him, no one that is, except for his young son Evan. The day Blackjack Barney was captured by soldiers and dragged in chains back to his home town was the first day in his miserable, no good life that he had ever felt anything close to remorse for the wicked things he'd done. Too bad he'd run out of time to do anything to make amends. On that fateful, stormy gray day in 1792, when he'd been marched through the town to the gallows, he'd caught a glimpse of his wife and boy at the edge of the crowd. His wife held the boy, her face stoic and resigned, while the boy took in every detail of the father he knew almost nothing about. The look of anguish in his eyes nearly dropped ol' Barney to his knees and it was just enough to melt his puny, cold heart. He'd been a lousy husband and an even worse father and he'd had 200 years as a ghost to kick himself for the life he'd wasted. He sat, brooding in the dark corner of the den in the Fall of 1992, contemplating his penance while watching the young family in the next room having dinner. The couple, Frank and Ella, spent a lot of time fighting about a host of problems he only half listened to, like long hours at work, not enough income, blah, blah, blah. It was just a litany of noise to Blackjack, as he'd endured many such scenes of the living complaining almost non-stop about living. They ought to try being dead on for size, he thought bitterly. Frank and Ella had two young sons, Elijah (six) and Ethan (nine). Blackjack liked watching the boys play video games and baseball in the backyard. He was most interested in Elijah, though. Something about the boy reminded him of his own son. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, the sorrow, as he watched his parents fight instead of spending time with the boys just being a family. Blackjack was thinking about all the things he would have done differently, when he noticed Elijah looking his way as if he could see him. His mouth formed a perfect little "O", as he sat frozen in place. "Finish your dinner, Elijah. It's getting late," his mother scolded, but Elijah refused to move, never taking his eyes off of Blackjack. "I said finish eating," his mother snapped harshly. Blackjack frowned and said gruffly, "Better do as yer told, boy, before yer mama gets her britches in a twist." Elijah gasped and nodded, absently spooning the remaining peas into his mouth but never taking his eyes off of Jack. "Well, I'll be damned," Blackjack swore! Nobody had ever been able to see or hear him before, but it was obvious that the boy did when he spoke around a mouth full of peas, "You're gonna have to pay the swearjar, mister. We don't use those words in this house." Jack laughed, a deep rumble he hadn't heard in over a century. "Who are you talking to," Elijah's father wanted to know. "The pirate over there in the corner," he replied, pointing. All heads turned to look in Jack's direction. "There's nothing in the corner, son," Frank said. "You boys put your plates in the sink and go get ready for bed." As they rushed up the stairs to brush their teeth, Ethan gave Elijah a little shove. "You're stupid," he whispered and took off with a burst of speed. Elijah climbed into bed with one of his pirate books and a flashlight, crawled deep under the covers, turned the light on and began to read. Most of the words he didn't understand but now that he'd started Kindergarten it wouldn't be long before he could read every word! He couldn't wait, even though Kindergarten wasn't as fun as everyone told him it would be. Several of the boys in his class were mean to him because he was so little for his age. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about that and he didn't know who to ask, so he figured it was a small price to pay to keep his mouth shut if he could finally learn to read all the stories his Dad used to read him at bedtime before things got bad. Suddenly, a big ghostly pirate head stuck up through the bottom of his bed right in front of Elijah's book! "Boo," Blackjack said softly, hoping the boy really could hear him. Elijah made a face at him. "You shouldn't go around swearing and scaring people. It's not nice," he told Blackjack in his most grown-up, scolding voice. "S'that right, boy? And who told you that?" "My granny told me," Elijah responded. "And she's the smartest person I know," he said sincerely. "Well, then she's probably got it a'right," Blackjack agreed. "How come you can see and hear me," he asked the boy. Elijah merely shrugged. "Hmmmmm. How come you're not skered of me?" Blackjack wanted to know. "Well, you don't gots an eyepatch or a wooden leg or a sword or even a parrot, so I figure ya can't be all that scary" Elijah declared, as if these things should be obvious. "What do I need an eyepatch for when I got me two good eyes?" "Cause all real pirates have one. Says so in my book," Elijah informed him and pointed to the page that he could mostly read because the words weren't too big. Blackjack studied the page for a long time before asking, "What else does it say in yer book that a pirate outta know?" So, as best he could, Elijah started back at the beginning and read the ghostly pirate the entire story, making up the parts that he didn't know how to read. Blackjack didn't mind, as he'd never learned how to read, either. When the book was done, Blackjack said, "Thanks for the story, boy. I'll think on it some while you sleep which you'd better get to right quick, as you've got school tomorrow." To that, Elijah frowned but nodded, turning off the flashlight. "You don't like going to school?" Blackjack asked. Elijah shrugged and sighed in the dark. "Hmmmmmmm," Blackjack responded. "Sounds like you got yourself some man-sized trouble. We'll talk about it when you get home tomorrow, if that suits you," he told the boy. Elijah smiled and nodded his head, closing his eyes tight and trying very hard to go to sleep. It was awfully difficult to sleep the night before something really important was about to happen, but he finally managed it! As he drifted off, he said a little prayer thanking God for sending him a friend. ...to be continued! *If you'd like the rest of the story, keep posted as I'm going to release this as a Children's book VERY soon! Have a safe and happy Halloween!
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 "The true solider fights not because he hates what is in front of him (or her), but because he loves what's behind him." ~GK Chesterton "Do what you can with what you have where you are." ~Theodore Roosevelt I want to thank everyone for patiently enduring my video blog series! I've really enjoyed being able to connect with all of you in a new way, even though it was wickedly challenging to do a video instead of relying on my writing. I hope you enjoy the video below and I want to say a sincere thank you to all of our men and women who lace 'em up to protect all of us and defend our freedoms. To all Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines & Coast Guard members, active duty, veterans and your families, I am eternally grateful for your service! And to all of you who faithfully support me, stand the wall with me, hold my hand when I need it, and give me courage to keep flying...you're the BEST!  Today's Video Blog experiment didn't go as smoothly as yesterday! Apparently it's going to be a whacky Wednesday for me! First, while I was recording the puppy began to howl because I'm out on the deck and he's in the house by himself (even though his little furry butt can see me through the dang door). Then, on try #2, a plane flew overhead, my next door neighbor came home, the phone rang, SHEESH! Finally, I got the video on track without interruption only to get nearly done when the recording stopped (...I didn't know video recorders had time limits of five minutes, or at least that one did)! So, if you want to hear the end of the book, you're going to need a trip to the library or the closest bookstore. Trust me, it's worth it, as the book I'm reading below has a perfect message for anyone of any age! Doing a video is totally unlike writing. The preparations are completely different and finding your voice through a video medium is an entirely separate animal. I've been developing my writing voice for a very long time, but my video voice is new. Most of the time, when you come to my site and delve into my blog articles, it will be my voice via writing, but I'm not going to abandon the video aspect, it's just going to take some time to feel as comfortable with it as my fingers do on a keyboard or while holding a pen. I hope you enjoy the video below. I promise, no computer equipment was harmed during its making! Happy HumpDay! *Note: The book I'm reading in the video below is "!" by Amy Krouse Rosenthal & Tom Lichtenheld! I'm so excited to be able to share with you my very first video blog (you should see me jumping up and down because I got it to work)! It was too beautiful not to be outside, so I dragged all of my writing "stuff" and hauled it out here on the deck to try something new! Hope you enjoy it! Sending you love on this perfect Tuesday in October! Always, A.  "Confidence...the sexiest thing I put on in the morning." ~author Unknown The topic of me wearing booty shorts came up over the weekend (...don't ask), and one of the first things that popped into my mind was, "Some things really ought to have an expiration date the way milk and eggs do." While stuff like coloring, bubble baths, cookies, climbing trees, playing in the mud and bunny slippers are timeless, there are other things we should totally "outgrow", i.e. whining, throwing tantrums (not to be confused with a hissy fit, which knows no age limits) pigtails, booty shorts, staying out all night when you have to work the next day, etc. I can almost see my mother rolling her eyes at this from her spot in Heaven, as she was fond of following the fashion trends from the Juniors section of department stores well into her forties. I have no doubt she'd find my ideas about this ridiculously old fashioned and maybe they are, but the older I get, the more I feel that sexy has nothing to do with what you show off. Sexy is a state of mind, an inner peace and confidence in yourself and if executed properly the one displaying it could be wearing a chicken costume and that would not lesson the utter Wowzer impact of uber sexiness. Some people are from the, "If you've got it, flaunt it" camp, while others, like me, fall into the "If you've got it, you don't need to flaunt it" point of view. I can certainly appreciate the other frame of mind and attitude of self-confidence expressed by "flaunting it" without prescribing to it. I think the point is for all of us to feel comfortable in the skin we're in and express ourselves accordingly. As for me, while I believe I do not have a completely unfortunate booty, it will SO not be hanging out of my britches in public! I gave up pigtails and booty shorts in my twenties...and I gotta say, I don't miss them at all! 
 Don't get me wrong...I love to curl up to a good Disney movie, even though my kids are now grown and I really have no excuse to watch them except that I genuinely enjoy them (Mulan is my favorite). It's that "Happily ever after" part that always gets me. What does that even mean??? Because you know that in the days that followed, Cinderella had times with the Prince where she wanted to brain him with a scepter and talk about him getting the in-laws from hell! I almost feel sorry for ol' Prince Charming. As for Tarzan and Jane, you know once they had kids, she was probably nagging him non-stop to move back to civilization so she could get a pedicure, enjoy the comforts of places with running water, and the possibility of sending their progeny off to school! For me, the novelty of living in the jungle would have worn off even quicker when I had no access to a restaurant on occasion, a grocery store, and a real bathroom! How the heck do you find "happily ever after" when you have to poop in the woods day after day, and have no toilet paper??? Not this Princess, lemme tell ya! If asked, most people will say they don't believe in fairytales and yet still that's the kind of relationship they're looking for (okay, maybe not the pooping in the woods part)! They want that ooey, gooey, fru-fru love that's all sparkly and magical. Many have completely unrealistic and antiquated notions of what "true love" should be, often believing that it will just sustain itself if it's "right". Pffftttt...this is utter non-sense and anyone who has managed to sustain a long-term relationship for many years would probably agree with me. The initial spark between two people is the "easy" part. It happens without thought, without warning, and boy can it knock you for a loop! What comes next, however, that's the hard part. Just like building a fire, getting the spark to ignite, easy peasy, but if you don't feed the fire it goes out. Sometimes, if you feed it a lot, it gets intense, blazing hot, and stoked too high will totally burn the crap out of you! If you wish to sustain it, you bank and nurture it a little at a time to keep the burn low and steady. A fire neglected will settle into hot ash that can be rekindled, but only if you don't wait too long to feed it again. Relatively simple when you're dealing with wood, not so much when it comes to humans. We're messy! Happily ever after, my ass! Commitment, hard work, and a desire to invest in each other over and over again, day after day through the good, bad and ugly...that's what comes next if it lasts. That's the devil in the details of "happily ever after" that nobody bothers to tell you, and if you aren't willing to do that, then you can skip right to "the end".   In the early morning hours, before the sun came up, I stared thoughtfully up at the faint light of predawn as I pondered today's blog article from my warm bed. "Snug as a bug in a rug"...that's what Aunt Mattie used to say on cold mornings when you didn't wan to abandon the sanctuary of warm covers. I dug safely into the recesses of my mind, searching for any demons that might be lurking there. I use the term "safe" because for the first time in my life, I no longer fear whatever I'll find in the dark. Since I started this journey of mental and emotional purging, my demons have lost their power over me, so hunting them down is no longer a source of anxiety. As I dug through my life in a fast-forward mode (only I was looking back), it occurred to me that finally I have exorcised them all! Sure, I still have unpleasant, unhappy memories mixed in among the joys, ups and downs to be found just by living life, but the black things, the poisonous things have all been dragged out of the spaces where they'd been hidden. This feels very strange and so new I am at a total loss as to how I'll process it. Going to have to let it cook up there awhile before I work that one out. I snuggled deeper under the covers and closed my eyes, smiling in the dark. "So, this is what freedom feels like," I thought. I don't need "10 Days of Dark", as I'd originally planned, which means what I'll write about until Halloween is a complete mystery to me. It feels amazing having the weight of those heavy burdens lifted completely from my heart, even though they still bother me. They no longer crush me, control me, feel me with dread or damage my self-worth! Those demons still lurk around, hanging out among other memories and experiences, but I've finally learned how to tell them to "shut it", stuff a cookie in their mouth and move on when they become noisy. Perhaps one day soon I'll be in a place where when they won't settle, we can all just snuggle till they're at peace again.   "Some people see in your eyes all of the things your heart doesn't know how to say." ~Amy M. Schaefer
This picture was taken on one of the worst days of my life. Michael had texted me during my planning period, asking how I was doing, so I sent him this. He could see the answer to his question clearly. A few days prior, I was told in confidence by a trusted colleague to "watch your back" because she had overheard a conversation that "they" were going to find a way to get rid of me (...they being the administrative staff where I worked). I didn't want to believe her, hoped she was wrong. The day of the photo, I knew she spoke the truth, as I'd just come from a closed-door meeting with my principal, who slammed me in an evaluation (first time ever) of which I had documentation to refute without question, which she didn't care to see and informed me that I would not be invited back for the next school year. I knew this was the beginning of the end of my teaching career, at least in this area. I chose this photo specifically as the representation for my writing career, put it on my author's page and all my business cards as a constant reminder that I, alone, am in charge of my fate. It reminds me of how to build something beautiful, magical, and life-changing out of utter destruction. In the two years since I finished that nightmare teaching contract, I have had many sleepless nights questioning the decisions I made that year (...like not doing my homework on that school, which has had the highest teacher turn-over rate in this county for quite awhile). I wondered if I had, in fact, done something so terrible it warranted the powers that be plotting to "get rid of me. I asked myself a thousand times if there was something I could have done better, or didn't do and should have. I've cried, screamed in frustration, and raged at the injustice of what was done to me. But when I'm done with the emotional roller coaster part of that experience, I know I did what I thought was right for my students, stuck by my own principles (especially when I refused to break the law and change grades that I was urged to change), followed the proper chain of command (even though the School Board Chair refused to speak with me) and made the very best decisions I could possibly make as issues arose. I have also spent the last two years investigating this issue and have been told repeatedly by credible sources that I'm not alone in the treatment of educators in this district. Two sources from DPI (the Department of Instruction) went on to say similar stories can be found all over the state of North Carolina, which is one reason why it has one of the highest teacher loss rates in the Nation. I will continue to investigate and write about education issues, bringing light to the broken parts as often as possible. Being a champion on these issues has become one of my life's missions. What I will NOT do is lose one more night of sleep thinking I did something wrong to deserve what was done to me. One of the worst days of my life was watching a career I had worked my ass off to be good at go down the drain. One of the best days of my life? Same day!  I can be quite ferocious when it comes to some things, like defending others, especially children. I will do so fearlessly and without hesitation, but with other things, I am fragile (which annoys me to NO end)! I feel ashamed of my vulnerabilities and some would call me a "weak" person because of them. Those people who are natural predators when it comes to the way they approach life and people would see me as weak and are potentially dangerous to me and others like me. Usually this is not a problem, as like most "animals", I have fine-tuned my ability to identify these lethal threats and am pretty adept at avoiding them. It doesn't always work, though, as I've had a professor or two, random family member, occasional "friend" and a couple of bosses in my lifetime who are natural predators. When these types of people are put into a position of power over me, it has always had disastrous results. I hate the way these people make me feel. I hate their ability to render me helpless and throw me off balance. I go to great lengths to avoid putting my power into the hands of people who are not "worthy" of that gift, not trustworthy to protect me, instead using and discarding me as if I were a means to an end, or worse "trash" in their eyes (...and if you're reading this, asking yourself, "Is she talking about me?", then you already know the answer). It's taken me a very long time and a lot of hashing out of issues created by people like this who've left various marks and stains on me, but I am learning how to use those experiences to build strength in places that were once vulnerable. I am also learning how to embrace the times when I feel vulnerable, giving myself permission to do so without seeing it as a weakness. I don't want to be hard, jaded, cynical, closing off myself from anything and everything that might hurt me, might not work out, or just may go "wrong" instead of "right". I'm learning how to love those soft, tender spaces inside of me. People who would take advantage of those? That's on them, not me. That's their weakness, their profanity on humanity, and ultimately their own cross to bear. Someday, I will forgive myself for allowing even one person the power to make me feel as if their actions were my fault. Until then, I will remind myself of something my husband tells me all the time, "Baby, we can't all be Jesus!" I am imperfect, flawed, human. This is a difficult thing for my Type A personality to accept, made even more so when I disappoint myself, not living up to my own expectations. All of this, however, does make me very much like everyone else, who are struggling in one way or another, similar to my own battles. That makes me feel more connected, less alone and gives me comfort. It also gives me hope that I will get there, even if I'm often unsure of where "there" is exactly! Guess I'll know it when I arrive! *Images @ suggestsoft.com (lion) and smscs.com (kitten).   "I loved you at your darkest." ~Romans 5:8
For the next ten days, I am going to speak of dark things, touching on some of the darkest parts of me that I've never shared, then I'm going to do a Halloween Special! After that, I will begin a series of articles that focus on 100 Days of Happy Things. Ten days of allowing myself the LAST of the dark, painful things that have hurt me over the years, a mini-pity party, and then not one more day of letting any of those things leave their claws in my flesh. Bumps in the road happen. Bad things happen to good people. That's life. The true test of who we are and what we're made of is in how we face those things and if we allow them to crush us, or help us grow! I had an abusive childhood and I've been raped three times over the years. Those things are not my darkest secret. My darkest secret is that through all of those things, often in the back of my mind I felt like I deserved that treatment. I thought I had done something I shouldn't, said something I shouldn't and created those situations where people used me, hurt me, damaged me because somehow I'd "asked for it". I believed my grandmother when she said I wasn't loveable, something was wrong with me, and reinforced her words with the proof of parents who didn't want me, left me, and rarely came around. I believed her when she called me a slut, even though I wasn't particularly promiscuous, thinking every desire I had or even dared to consider made me slutty. I believed my mother when she told me I was ugly. I believed that I didn't deserve a man who loved me unconditionally, one who'd find me beautiful inside and out, cherish me and want to protect me, even at his own expense. I believed that I was damaged from birth, had little or no worth...a mistake that shouldn't have been allowed into this world at all and for a long time, my most ardent goal was to be someone who mattered and prove that I deserved not only the right to live, but also the right to love and be loved, to find and hold on to happiness. I have overcome much of these self-esteem issues over the years as I experienced different view points from friends I've made and successes in my life that have helped to make me strong, but not all of that pain and self-doubt is gone. There are still shreds of guilt, ounces of doubt, and an occasional "what if" that still drift through my mind. This used to crush me, make me want to curl up into a ball and hide from the whole world. Now it just makes me angry! I am angry that anyone was allowed to damage "little me" in such an insidious way! I am furious at the people who've come across me over the years and used my damage against me when it suited them, but I am the most angry at myself for allowing it! Now that I've shared my worst secret, I am reclaiming all of my self-worth. Not one more moment will I give it the power to harm me, and not one more person will be allowed into my life who would use me in any way. To those of you who are facing your own darkness, take whatever light you need from whomever is willing to give it to you, then share that light with another. In that way, bit by bit, we have the collective power to heal the whole world one person at a time. |
About The Author
I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter. Archives
August 2021
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